


Royals

by TopHat



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Past, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), So many Original Charahcters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHat/pseuds/TopHat
Summary: Ten years after the Great War, an academic, a colonist, a traumatized twenty-something and a knight-errant enter Beacon trying to become Hunters. Updates on Sundays.





	Royals

“What do you know about initiation?” I ask a likely looking pink-clad gothic-lolita second year. She’s attractive enough for me to be interested (even with the pink hair), but I cut that thought off at the roots. She’s sitting in the lap of a scary-looking fellow with his arms around her and similar pink stripes in his own green hair, and going after women already in a relationship is asking for trouble. He raises an eyebrow at me, questioning. I lift a hand, signaling I’m only here to talk. He closes his eyes soap-blue eyes and leans back, signaling that he won’t attack unless I do something stupid.

By Oum I love bro-speak.

The girls turns to me and I suppress a little shudder. She’s got black eyes, sclera and iris both. Fucking creepy, but there’s nothing but amusement in her smile. It’s weird to watch.

“It’s different every year, silly!” she laughs, closing her eyes and marginally reducing her creepiness. Fuck. “There are common themes,” she clarifies. “The newbies always have to go out and get something, and the first person you see is always your partner for as long as you're both enrolled.”

“That’s a remarkably stupid system,” I state frankly. “Some people don’t get along well. What happens if you’re stuck with a person that you can’t compromise with?” Has the headmaster even heard the word synergy?

“It got me here,” she shrugs, resting her head on green man’s shoulder. “Anyway, don’t bother trying to team up with your friends. The best way to lose a friend-”

“-is to live with them,” I finish, nodding. Dad’s advice from college, and still true in a school where murder is part of the curriculum. “I picked up on that.” Not like I’d want to be on a team with anyone from my school anyway. “Any advice on finding good partners?” I ask. I’m already weeding out some of the weaker/more difficult first years on the plane, but these two know more than I do.

“Look for someone unlike you,” green man says.. He’s got a low voice, making me think he went through puberty early. Lucky bastard. I wait for an explanation. And wait. Nope. Okay, I guess we’re done here.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure...” I motion with my hands towards them.

“Maggie and Beda,” the pink girls answers, shaking my hand. “I hope you make it through initiation!”

I smile and wave while I walk away. Note to self, upperclassmen are weirder than you give them credit for.

Now then, time to look for someone unlike me who isn’t unbearable. Drop the upperclassmen, of course. Drop the newbies that are super nervous, they might flake if initiation is too scary. Yeah, I’m looking at you, green girly. She’s in a flack jacket that’s a lighter shade than Beda’s hair and chewing at her fingernails like crazy. Yeah, no.

Drop the arrogant-looking motherfuckers, primarily young men with more muscle than sense. That means you, orange monk wannabe. Yeah, I see your robes. I also see the pocket in them where you keep a flask of something strong. Think it makes you cool, huh?

Drop the empty-looking people. Are they war vets or something? Who decided to bring soldiers to a school? Again, if I was running this place, there’d be some serious changes. Sorry, grey feather head. It’s not your species, it’s the way you look at everyone like they’re a threat. Also, you’re wearing a grey shirt over grey pants. Are you trying to disappear into the background? And while you have better fashion sense, mister blond and beautiful, your hands are covered in bandages. There is no scenario where that is something I want to work with for four years.  
So then, once the subpar are removed, what’s on offer?

We’ve got a pair of twins that are probably going to partner up as soon as the initiation starts. Shame that, they look real nice. There’s a smiley guy in a tattered scarlett turtleneck and cargo pants, but it’s the smile I wear while looking at bullies. No thanks, I’ve got enough crazy in my life. There’s a transfer student from Atlas with a stick up his ass in a dress shirt and formal jeans. He’s trying to tell the guy next to him that no, he’s from Vacuo. Bullshit. The day someone from Vacuo irons a shirt is the day the Grimm fly to space and come down with cake and booze. That said, Atlas does do good training. He’ll be a last-resort option.

And right there is pay-dirt. A lovely little lady snoring against the glass, cloaked in orange-flavored red and russet. She’s got powder stains on her gloves, and there are some scuffs on the shoulder of her coat that show no small time spent at the shooting range.

Not a slacker, not apparently arrogant and not nervous. Not my type, but that’s probably a good thing.

Anyway, time to turn on the charm.

I sit down quietly in front of her and put on a genuine smile. She continues to snore, but I catch a flutter of an eyelid that’s probably not REM sleep. I sit across from her and prop my head up on one arm.

“Hello, my name’s Cyan Rum. What do you know about initiation?” I ask, smiling gently.

More snoring.

“Well, I know that it changes every year. I know that the area we’ll be tested in is the Emerald forest. I also know that the partnering system is ‘work with the first person you see and hope you’re compatible’.” I wait to see if there’s any reaction.

Nope. Snoring.

“I also know that there are a lot of students I wouldn’t get along with. Mr Drunken Master over there,” I jerk my chin towards the orange figure, “wouldn’t mesh well with me. Nor would the girl in green or the guy in grey,” I add, motioning to both of them. “Too nervous and too scary respectively.”

“What if I’m scary?” The voice has a rustic twinge, and when I turn to look for the source the little lady is back to snoring. Playing coy, huh?

“You look like the kind of scary I can work with,” I shrug. “Anyway, nothing is set in stone. The prof will probably explain something about initiation before sending us into it. I’ll ask him a question, and I’ll code something into it to make a rendezvous point. Sound good?” I ask, looking at her and smiling.

She grumbles and turns over in her seat and going straight back to snoring. I shrug and get up. Time to talk to the totally-from-Vacuole guy.

“What if I don’t want to work with you?” The same voice asks. I stop mid step and turn around. Her eyes are open now, and what lovely brown eyes they are. There’s no trust in them.  
Going to have to play this carefully.

“Then don’t,” I say. “I do not have the right to tell you what to do.” Her eyes haven’t closed. That means I’m doing something right. “I am reasonably good in a fight, smart, and very good at reading people. That’s why I’m talking to a sleeping girl who makes her own ammunition,” oh come one, why are you surprised I can see that, you have Dust burns all over your gloves, “rather than the Atlesian cookie cutter,” I finish, jerking a thumb towards the fellow in a dress shirt, who has moved past explaining his heritage and begun explaining why Vacuo is much more lawful than people think. He’s not convincing anyone. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’s fine, but I want a partner who will think of things I can’t.” Time to see if she takes the bait.

“Where dja come from?” She’s facing me with her whole body now. Nearly have her on board. Don’t fuck this up, Rum.

“A caring family who let me make mistakes. I’ve learned from a few of them.” 7/10, you could’ve done better. The ‘them’ is ambiguous, but you hit the right points of compassion and responsibility. Also told the truth.

Little lady settles back against the glass and closes her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

She’ll think about it. First-contact bias will probably make her choose me, but there is room for error. I’d press it more, but she’s shut down the conversation. Let’s not be pushy and bank our score.

I walk off towards the next group of upperclassmen and put on my best smile. “Why’re you all so glum? Do us first years really put you that far down in the dumps?” Open with comedy and a smile, listen to them talk about themselves, and use their tales to gather information about the school.

Oum I love being able to talk to people.

**********

The city boy in blue walks off to hassle some other students. Looks like it’s going well.

He’s a perceptive one, I’ll give him that. All he had to do is look, but most don’t. That, and he saw through me sleepin. Or he guessed. Either way, he put himself out there.

He could be lying. It could be one big pile of shit, pulling one over the wild girl. Don’t strike me as likely. He could be telling some of the truth and not mentioning the bits that make him look bad. No crime there, though. It’s a city thing to do, and it’d be too much of a pain to be pissed at that.

He’s ducking out of that group of upperclassmen now and wandering off towards the loo, throwing out a wave and smiles every other step. He’s makin’ fast friends.  
Wonder how fast he loses ‘em when the chips go down. Or if he runs off, leavin’ them first.

I take a look around the room, looking for partners. Some pimply kids who’ve only fought in a ring, some juvie kids who can’t write their names in the dirt with a sharp stick, and maybe ten people who look like they’d give me trouble in a fight.

He were right. Slim pickings here. Sane, strong, or friendly look like the options, pick one or fewer. ‘Cept for Cyan, who looks sane and friendly.

Eh, two out of three ain’t so bad. I’ll listen for that question.

They call for us to get out of the Bullhead, and I make a show of waking up, yawning, and stretching. A few of the boys give me some looks (as do the twins in the bar back), but I send off a toothy smile and most of them back down.

Wish someone wouldn’t.

Announcer lady says our luggage has been taken up to the main hall, and that we should make our way to the primary lecture hall by five. I flip my wrist and check Uncle’s watch. I’ve got fifteen minutes and no idea where I’m going. I pester a bald black second year girlie in jeans and a purple tee for directions, and she offers to give me tour.

While we’re walking, she gives me the skinny on the profs (Fracture is a kick an’ a half, Vent is stoned mosta the time, and Cal is a bitch n’ a half), a run down of the better bars (there innit any) and introduces me to her team.

“Aw, you got a new pet Ube!” A girlie in pink moves in to hug me. I get a hand on her head before she gets in grabbin’ distance.

“She always like this?” I ask one of the fellas behind her while she tries to push past my arm.

The one in metal blue business casual (why are all the city folk in nice clothes at a combat school?) just shrugs and stares impassively and scratches his thin little Fuy-Gawkes beard. The one in green with pink stripes in his hair nods. “The other first year we met didn’t stick around, and Mags probably wants to play dress up.”

The fella in blue has his skin go from dark hickory to willow wood in the space of a few seconds and starts becoming very interested in another group of third years. Ube laughs, and motions for him to go. The fella sprints off and the girlie in pink finally stops trying to get past my arms and pouts.

“Rackley’s never around when I make things, so I never make anything for him. It’s really irritating!” she huffs, and I let out a laugh.

“Pleasure meeting y’all, but I’ll need to be at the hall, right? I’ll catch up when I’m through initiation.” I start moving forwards and wave to the three people left.  
Ube smiles, her teeth shining snow-bright against her skin. “Confident, are we?”

I smile back. “Da said all a lady needs is confidence!”

**Author's Note:**

> I work primarily on FanFiction, rather than AO3. If you want the rest of the fic, check out my profile there. Updates weekly.


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